In Athens, Georgia in 1980, you could walk into to one of the town's clubs or a house party on just about any night and find one of the defining "Athens Sound" quirky pop bands at work: The surf-rock and B-movie-inspired B-52's were still local; the rhythmic and noisy Pylon were readying themselves for a recording debut and the jangly R.E.M. were still developing their sound, bashing out covers like "Hippy Hippy Shake."

And then there was Love Tractor, the ethereal pop band that was just as influential in drawing attention to the sleepy college town's storehouse of talent with college radio hit albums like 1983's Around the Bend and '87's This Ain't No Outer Space Ship. They've kept it pretty quiet over the last twelve years, but now they're back with The Sky at Night, their first album since 1989's Themes From Venus, and founding members Mark Cline and Mike Richmond find themselves reflecting on their life and times as ambassadors for the little college town that could and did.

For a moment, they get sidetracked wondering how they fit into the big picture these days. "I don't know what the sound is on it," says guitarist Cline of the new record. "We have been so uninvolved in anything having to do with music that it probably reflects our sentiment more than any stylistic influence."

It's true. The Sky at Night veers from New Wave bounce ("Palace of Illusion") to prog-rock pomp ("And the Ship Sails On"). All the tracks are executed with a breezy, freeform floatiness for which the early Love Tractor was beloved. "Christ Among the Children," is old Love Tractor groove fused with Richmond's high, Sterolab-ish vocal.

"That song started off as part of another song that was part of an eight- or nine-minute song where the song dropped out," begins the more soft-spoken Richmond, "and that was . . . "

"The end reprise," Cline chimes in.

"The end was too confusing so we dropped it and kept that and it worked perfectly," Richmond finishes.

"One of those no-brainer songs," says Cline. "Do we need to make it longer? Nah, it's good the way it is. That's the way the whole album is. It was really only written to please us. That's also how we made our first couple of records."

Love Tractor formed in Athens in 1980 with Cline, Richmond, bassist Armistead Wellford and drummer Kit Schwarz; drummer Bill Berry joined up for awhile when Schwartz left the band, but when forced to pick a side, Berry threw his lot in with some University of Georgia classmates calling their band R.E.M.

"Bill has always been a friend, and he's such a nice guy. We had that one track [on the new album] and it was kinda like really lacking something," says Cline of the mystic, space-jam, "Bright," to which Berry contributes percussion. "Armistead was always going over to Bill's farm, and Bill was saying, 'Let me hear what you guys are recording,' and he was really jiving on it and without any information or assistance, he came up with his part. We kept thinking that it needed something too, so we just said, get in the studio, it works."

For the rest of the recording of the self-produced album, the band took local drummer Tom King, guitarist and keyboardist Doug Stanley and former Pell Mell guitarist Dave Spalding into the tiny Elixir studios in Athens. "It's like walking into a time warp," explains Cline. "All the gear in there is like from 1975. For us it was comfortable. Everyone's familiar with that equipment and how it works. The record has a lot of technology on it once it got down to the mix-down stage."

Though Cline lives in New York and Wellford in Virginia (Richmond lives outside Athens), since they stopped making records and touring in 1992, the band still convenes every couple of years in Athens to write songs.

"We'd been fighting it out on the road for twelve years, surrounded by people telling us what to do and you sorta get brainwashed," says Cline. "The treadmill just pushed us away from our artistic intent. At a certain point, we had people from all directions telling us what we needed to do and when you're so beat up from being on the road, you start to listen to them."

"So we all had to drop out -- Armistead not as much [he's played with Steve Wynn, Gutterball and Sparklehorse] as Mike and I did. But the thing that brings everyone back to Athens is that it's the spiritual home for the band. There's a laidback atmosphere. It's so easy; we know the old habits."

Indeed a trip to Athens is like being sucked into a vortex; three hours can easily turn into three days. "I know exactly what you mean," Cline smiles, before attempting to explain the phenomenon. "I think Athens is much more a sensibility than a sound," he says. "When the Athens scene first started it was the B-52's, Pylon, Love Tractor, R.E.M., the Side Effects, Limbo District . . . Every band had a completely distinct, different sound, but the one thing they had in common besides being friends was to entertain each other. We'd go play just to entertain our friends. The press compressed everything into one sound and forgot that it was a sensibility, about making our own fun at the time." He points to the Athens-based psychedelic superpop of the Elephant Six groups -- Olivia Tremor Control, Neutral Milk Hotel and Apples in Stereo -- as Tinytown soul mates.

"They have the Athens sound by sensibility," he says. "Doing the same things the bands in Athens twenty years ago were doing -- making our own music, at all costs."

DENISE SULLIVAN
(March 22, 2001)